


Of Rescues

by PuppetMaster55



Series: Latte Week [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddles, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Matt is basically the Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9280394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppetMaster55/pseuds/PuppetMaster55
Summary: Lance is surprised to find that the latest enemy sent after them has a familiar face.Matt is surprised to find himself being pieced together by an enemy





	

There was something painfully tragic about the fate of Holt family, Lance mused. He stood in the dungeon, looking at the tube holding Matt's unconscious form, and considered the circumstances that had led to that moment.

They had been attacking a Galra command ship, ready to save another segment of space, when the castle had gone silent. They defeated the commander, set free the prisoners, and removed the Galra from that solar system before returning to find that Coran and Allura had had to deal with a pest problem.

And by pest problem, they meant an assassin. It wasn't until he was good and bound that they unmasked him.

The time under the Galra had not been kind to Matt. He had a swimmer's build, all lean muscle and little fat, but he looked far too gaunt to be healthy. There weren't any scars, at least none that were immediately visible, but for the most obvious. Matt's leg, the one that Shiro remembered stabbing, was gone, replaced with a prosthetic that reminded them uncomfortably of Shiro's arm.

It did, Lance knew. It glowed and it was just as deadly. He was so relieved when Shiro had blocked the kick Matt had aimed for his head. They had considered moving Matt to a cryopod, maybe let him heal and then try to talk to him about what had happened, but the moment the restraints had been loosened...

The most painful part, Lance knew, was that Pidge had taken to the knowledge that the Galra had corrupted her brother the hardest. He spared a glance at her sleeping form beside the tube, his jacket draped over her. She had barely left Matt's side since learning that he was here.

Lance looked at Matt's unconscious form, and despite seeing the family resemblance to Pidge, he could also see that Matt might have been beautiful in his own right. With a fair bit more meat on his bones, Matt could be quite the looker. He only needed to be retrained in how to be a human.

Sighing, Lance frowned. Shiro and Pidge were out of the equation on that, since they only knew Matt before his time under the Galra. Worse for Shiro, since Matt's... Lance didn't want to call it training, since he doubted the Galra were so kind as to offer training to prisoners, but.. conditioning seemed the closest fit. Matt's conditioning was likely to trigger something in Shiro, and then they would both be in a downward spiral. Allura and Coran were out on principle. Keith... Lance would readily admit that Keith was dependable, but Keith was also difficult to grasp the finer points of other human emotions, and he was absurdly brash when Shiro wasn't there or was in trouble. Lance was willing to blame the first flaw on the year spent living in solitude in the desert, but the second one was just Keith's blaring flaw of having Shiro be almost all of his impulse control.

On the opposite end of things sat Hunk. Hunk, who had already started sympathy crying when he realized that it was Matt. Hunk, who was worrying himself sick over making sure that Pidge was okay.

So no, not Hunk.

Which left Lance. Not the best option by far – and really, Lance could think of a dozen other people much more qualified to help Matt back on Earth. But they weren't on Earth, and in a castle full of seven – now eight – people, their choices were severely limited.

Lance could do this. He could help bring Matt back to his senses. He just needed to do what he did best: ignore whatever Matt said and talk about anything. Maybe he could regale Matt with tales from his childhood...

* * *

He existed in pieces, jagged and sharp.

They had stripped his identity from him, torn and shorn entire parts of himself away and honed the edges left behind into a weapon.

He could barely remember a time before, a time when he was whole. From then, he had only impressions of... things. He couldn't put them to words, what it was, but the closest analogy he could find was the respite that came immediately after returning from a mission unscathed.

And then he'd gotten captured, had failed in his mission – the most important mission he would ever get, his superiors had told him. He had gone in to assassinate the paladins of Voltron and their support – and failed. Everything he had drilled into his head was that failure meant death, either by the hands of his superiors or by the hands of the entity he was sent to kill.

Except, the members of Voltron had not killed him. Instead, they locked him up (using hilariously outdated means, he could – and would, and did – break out of them in two beats of a Galra heart) and talked to him. The smallest one rarely left his cell alone, looking at him with pleading eyes that hurt him to a degree he didn't know was possible. It unsettled him more that he recognized her, from the time before.

There was also the Champion, the false Black Paladin, another who often visited, and this one he was certain he had met in the past, not just in the before, but in the time leading up to his awakening as his current self.

The Alteans were rare visitors, as were the Red and Yellow Paladins, but there was one more who kept visiting his cell, who talked to him about the most strange of subjects: the Blue Paladin. He had been introduced as Lance, and called him Matt – a name that made his heart ache with disturbing familiarity – and told him of a planet far, far away. Their planet, it seemed. Lance had talked for long hours about the littlest of things, about everything that came to his mind. He now knew how to make _papas frites_ , now knew how to rig a 2068 Corvette Crew with a nitro booster, and knew far too much about life in Veradero Beach.

But it was grounding, oddly enough. It made him remember things, softened edges he wasn't aware of, filled in holes he had long since learned to ignore. Lance was pulling back the entity – the _person_ he was before. Lance was... comforting. Lance had given him back the words needed to describe his life before.

Comfort.

Safety.

Home.

Love.

And now here he was, broken out of his cell, having ignored the Green Paladin entirely, left them slumped against the wall in their sleep, dangerously vulnerable, in favor of seeking out Lance. It had taken some time, but he had managed to track Lance down to his personal quarters. He had managed to sneak in, and was standing over Lance, watching him sleep.

Lance had strange sleeping habits, he realized. There were two sleeping masks – one entirely cosmetic, the other covering his eyes – on his face, and his ears were smothered in huge headphones. It was ridiculous – what if someone had broken in to attack him, what then? But then again, that was what he was there for, wasn't he? To ensure that Lance was safe. To ensure that this little piece of his past, this amazing person that was putting him back together with memories and kind words, would continue to live and represent all that he wanted back.

Setting aside his knife (for what sort of entity – what sort of person was he, if he wasn't armed at all times), Matt groaned, climbing into bed. He had been wondering what it was like to touch another, gently, softly. He had been wondering what it felt like to touch Lance, to wrap his arms around Lance and – not kill. Just hold. It was all in the nature of protecting Lance, of course.

That Lance was very nice and warm to hold was a bit of a bonus, really.

* * *

 

The first thing that Lance realized when he woke up was that he was being aggressively cuddled. Waking up to being cuddled wasn't a new thing for him, since Hunk was a very cuddly guy, but Lance wasn't being cuddled by Hunk. The person was far too spindly, to start.

Plus, the pulsing warmth of the metal leg was a big giveaway.

Lance considered speaking, but from the way Matt curled over him – protectively, Lance realized, which left butterflies in his stomach at the fact that Matt had apparently escaped his cell just to cuddle in bed with him and not kill him in his sleep – they very obviously were not alone. Lance guessed that his room was very crowded, and he wondered if he had the freedom to take off the eyemask and the headphones.

Eh, he could deal with that later. First things first, Lance had to diffuse the standoff happening over him.

“Well,” he began conversationally, keeping his voice soft but strong enough to carry through the room, “this is a first.” He felt Matt tense, and Matt's free hand shifted, tugging the eyemask and headphones off in one fell swoop. Lance blinked up at Matt's snarling face. To his eternal surprise, it wasn't directed at him, but instead at the group standing in his doorway. He grinned. “Morning!”

“Lance!” Keith hissed, his bayard drawn. Pidge was standing in front of him, her back to Lance. “Why do you even sleep like that?!”

“I have a skin care regimen, Keith,” Lance blithely replied. “And it's difficult to sleep in silence. How do you people do that?”

“Lance.” Shiro hovered in the doorway, eyes fixed on Matt. “Don't move.”

“Thank you, fearless leader,” Lance replied. He glanced at Matt, who seemed more concerned that there were others infringing on Lance's room than on Lance. Experimentally, he wiggled his shoulders, getting Matt's partial attention. “Hey. Think you can ease up on the protecting here? I'm sure Keith won't _actually_ poke you with his sword. He hasn't poked any of us with it.”

Matt turned his head to face Lance, although his eyes were still fixed on the group at the door. “You're sleeping habits are horrible.”

Lance laughed, even as Matt shifted so he could sit up. Hunk made a squeaking noise as Lance moved, and everyone tensed up as Matt altered his stance to protect Lance's torso. “This is about the headphones, isn't it? In my defense, going from a big family to the Garrison to a big castle in space is a huge change. Even the Garrison had a white noise machine in the dorms.” He paused. “Also? Matt, you can stop threatening them. I'm not in any danger.”

“You don't know that.”

At any other time, Lance would have marveled at the fact that this was the most Matt had ever spoken before. As it stood, he was glad that Matt was responding to his name. “I really do. I become part of a giant robot with four of those nerds. There is about zero chance of danger from them. Unless Hunk eats dairy, then he's a danger to everyone. But there's no dairy here, I'm pretty sure, and he always feels terrible about it.” He nudged at Matt. “Now, either budge over so I can get up or get resigned to carry me to the restroom.”

“Lance!” Keith hissed again. “What are you _doing_?”

He squinted at his teammate. “You haven't had food yet, have you?”

“That's beside the point!”

“It's totally the point,” Lance said, wagging a finger at Keith. “You get snippy when you haven't eaten. Go eat the breakfast goo.”

“But he's–” Keith let out a growl of frustration, and Lance stared, nodding along like he understood what Keith was saying (and he did, just a little bit).

“Matt isn't a danger to me, are you, Matt?” Lance turned his attention to Matt, who was looking at the group in the doorway warily, and with much less murder on his face. Lance nodded, looking at Keith like his point had been proven. “Go. Eat. We'll meet up with you in a while.”

“Okay.” Shiro nodded, holding out his metal hand to shove Keith away from the door. His other hand was used to push Pidge along, who glanced at Matt with longing. “Our comms are open if anything happens.”

“It won't!” Lance called out at their retreating forms. The door slid shut, and Lance shared a glance with Matt. “It won't, right?”

Matt lowered his knife, looking at Lance like he was being appraised for auction. “You're very warm to sleep against.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “It's called cuddling. And... I think we can make it a regular thing. I could even cuddle you back.”

Matt smiled, small and fond. “I think I'd like that.”


End file.
